Grade School Short Stories

In their Creative Writing block, Grade 7-8 students practised being more descriptive in short writing exercises before creating these three paragraph stories. Being aware of story format, including plot development, character development, setting, conflict, and resolution, students later completed a five paragraph story. At this stage in their development they learn to better express themselves while also considering the reader's experience.

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 Short story by Ewan
​A volcano towers overhead surrounded by tall forest and clear lakes. The sun gleams brightly, 
sparkling on the lakes creating a magnificent reflection of the volcano. Leaves drop onto one of the lakes creating little ripples that don’t make it to the distant shore where a national park center is.

Near this lake a camper packs up his tent and strolls over to the lakeshore to load his canoe. He looks out at the water not moving. He stays like that for a while before turning to his canoe. He hops in his canoe with all of his gear and paddles away.

While paddling the camper looked sharply back at the volcano as his canoe started to rock. He fiercely paddles away from the volcano then looks back again. I’m the reflection of his eyes. You can see the volcano erupt. He paddles hard to shore and makes shelter in the national park center.

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Short story by Clara
Deep in a thick forest, in a cozy sunny clearing, there sat a little broken down hut. Hanging from its hinges was a door, tethered together by vines and twigs. Patchwork windows of glass and mud lined the rotting exterior. Inside sat an old Hermit, petting his fluffy black squirrel Garry.

Into the clearing he ambled, wandering among the sleepy forest floor. Coming across an occasional berry bush, he pinched the ripened berries and stored them in his hand and Garry’s cheeks. Hidden in the ferns below, he even discovered a few crow feathers. Fashioning then into a crown of moss and flowers, he seated himself beside Garry on a large boulder. He stroked Garry, smiling while quietly watching the wildlife BLANK.

​After the sky had begun to darker, he looked up to survey the sun. Low on the horizon the sun fell, so the Old Hermit started to find his way back home. Lifting Garry, he twisted and turned among the familiar trees until he reached his hut. Strolling languidly inside, and lowered himself onto the makeshift bed inside Garry. Sleep enveloped him as he drifted off to the sound of Garry’s snores, and a lonely owl calling from the dark.

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Shot story by Cole
Water lapped at the shoreline of the small island in the middle of Lake of the Woods.
Surrounded by maple trees, the log cabin was home to the man who sat at the table stroking Dungy, his pet dung beetle. The man shuffled out of the house holding Dungy in the palm of his hand close to his chest protecting him. He stumbled down a skinny trail between towering maple trees down to the water's edge and then he lowered his hand so Dungy could get off his palm.

The man strode to a tree trunk and dropped down beside it and gazed at the sunset and after 30 minutes the man scooped up Dungy and strode home and dropped into bed.

When the man opened his eyes and stretched out sleepily to pet Dungy, Dungy wasn’t there. He jolted awake and sat confused and bellowed Dungy’s name. He didn’t come so the man rushed out of bed and frantically started searching the house, turning over furniture, but he still couldn’t find him. He raced outside red in the face and darted through the forest calling out Dungy. Sweat dripped from the man’s brow and tears poured down his cheeks as he slowly sank down onto a log.

He saw a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye and hopes rising tilted his head so he could see below him. Below the man walked Dungy and six baby dung beetles. He stood and gathered the beetles, breathing heavily and tramped back through the forest to his cabin and cautiously laid the dung beetles on a table. He sighed in relief then pondered over names for the dung beetles. After a couple of hours he settled on David, Maverick, Aiden, Miles, Caden and Carson.

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Short story by Olivia
Rain dropped down the window pane, while a little brown cabin sat peacefully in the heart of the woods. Dark gray rain clouds blotted out the daylight as north winds whipped through the trees. Thunder rumbled in the distance, followed by a crack of lightning.

Omori sighed as he placed a mug in the microwave. How many times has it rained this month? He thought as he watched the mug of milk rotate on the microwave plate. Omori wandered to the window with the mug of milk in hand, calmly watching as the raindrops raced each other down the pane.

Lightning flashed again, this time right outside the house. Omori jumped at the sudden noise, but quickly recovered and took a sip of his milk. He scouted the area from his window to make sure nothing was damaged, and relaxed again when he saw that everything was fine. More thunderous sounds echoed in the distance, but this time the sounds were not being created by the storm. The familiar sound of scampering paws was what greeted him, he smiled and opened the door for his pet wolves.